The Innocent (31 page)

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Authors: Ann H. Gabhart

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC027050

BOOK: The Innocent
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“I will miss you.” Carlyn blinked to keep back tears as
she touched her cheek to Sister Berdine’s. “And will pray for you and for Payton.”

She turned to climb back up on the barrel, but Sister Berdine grabbed her sleeve. “Wait. There is more.” Her face was serious in the moonlight. “We heard a dog in the shadows under the corncrib. We could not see it well, but it looks the size of the dog you told me you had. Payton thinks the poor creature may be hurt. He has a soft spot for animals.”

“Asher? Hurt?”

“It may not be Asher, but a worry kept poking me that it might be. So I thought if it is your dog, it might crawl out to let you see if it is hurt or merely frightened.”

“Asher would not cower.” Carlyn started across the yard.

Sister Berdine jerked her back close to the house. “We must stay in the shadows.”

“Surely there are no watchers at night.” The windows of the house behind them were all dark, but then a watcher would want no lights inside to spoil the ability to see what moved in the moonlight.

“You cannot be sure with these people. They watch everything. Plus, I saw a brother moving across the road earlier headed toward the tanning sheds.”

“Perhaps to meet another sister.”

“Not there, I would hope. The smell near that place is dreadful.” Sister Berdine shuddered at the thought before she began threading her way from shadow to shadow. “If I were the sister, I would wonder of the choice of rendezvous. Besides, he appeared to be carrying a shovel.”

“Did you recognize who it was?”

“Nay. I only saw his back. I feared he might see me and spoil my meeting with Payton.”

“But you took the chance to come back for me.”

“For you, my sister, I would.” Sister Berdine reached back to take Carlyn’s hand. “But hurry now. Payton and I must be gone before the rising bell. I do not want to give these Shakers a chance to change his mind. The guilt might overwhelm his good sense.”

The Shaker brother stepped away from the corncrib when they glided across the last patch of moonlight to melt into the shadows beside him.

“Is she coming with us?” A tremble sounded in his voice as he looked from Sister Berdine to Carlyn.

“Nay.” Sister Berdine touched the man’s cheek. He caught her hand in his and held it to his lips. For a moment, they seemed to forget Carlyn was there. Then Sister Berdine shook herself and said, “She came for the dog.”

Carlyn was already on her knees beside the crib, which was built on poles above the ground to keep the corn dry. She peered back into the shadows. “Asher, is that you?”

The dog lifted his head and gave a soft bark. A bark Carlyn would have recognized anywhere. She started to crawl under the crib, but the Shaker brother stopped her.

“Best let him come to you if he can, Sister.”

Carlyn nodded and brushed away the tears that had popped into her eyes. “Come, Asher.” She spoke the words firmly and the dog limped out from under the crib, holding a back paw off the ground. Carlyn sat on the ground and let him crawl into her lap. “Poor boy, you’re bleeding.”

Asher licked her face and flapped his tail back and forth.

Brother Payton squatted down beside them. “Let me see his leg unless you think he might snap at me. I would much rather not start my new life with Berdine with a mangled hand.”

Carlyn looked at the brother. She had seen him in the Meeting House. Not a handsome man, but his voice and manner bespoke gentleness. The gentleness of a longtime Shaker with none of Sister Edna’s acerbity.

“Easy, Asher.” Carlyn held the dog while Payton ran his fingers along his leg. Asher stayed still and didn’t growl.

The brother gingerly put the dog’s paw down. “It appears he has been shot, but the bone may not be damaged beyond healing.” The man stood and looked at the sky. “We can help you take him to the West Family barn. Brother Willis there has a gift in healing animals.”

Berdine grasped his arm. “Is there time before the rising bell?” Her voice was tight.

“Mayhap, if the dog lets me carry him.”

“Nay, that is not necessary.” Carlyn looked up at Sister Berdine. She gently moved the dog out of her lap to stand. “I can take him. He will walk with me.”

“You will be in trouble with a certain sister if you do not go back before she wakes,” Sister Berdine said.

Carlyn sighed. “Trouble has seemed to stalk me lately. She can do no more than make me leave the village. Now go.”

“If you are sure.” Brother Payton sounded uncertain.

Something Sister Berdine must have noted. She gave Carlyn a quick hug. “If that happens, come to us. Or better yet, take Asher back to the sheriff. Yea, that is exactly what you should do and ask him if he needs someone to make sure the dog does not escape his care again.” She laughed, excitement bubbling out. “Better yet, I will tell him that for you. After we find a preacher.” She hooked her arm through Brother Payton’s to start him away from the village.

Brother Payton looked back over his shoulder. “Tell
Brother Willis I sent you. And tell him I am sorry to slip away in the night, but I could not bear breaking the Shaker ties with my brothers’ eyes watching me and words of sorrow on their lips.”

Sister Berdine stopped. “Do you want to stay?”

Carlyn knew how hard it must be for her to say those words.

“Nay. I will miss my brothers, but it is time for a new beginning. Together.” He reached for her hand. “You are my life now.”

“Then let us begin living it.” Sister Berdine spoke over her shoulder to Carlyn. “Keep up your courage, Sister. In time, you will have a new beginning too.”

Carlyn watched them disappear into the night. They were the ones with courage. To dare the unknown for love. She had done the same once with Ambrose. Would there be a new time for love for her? With Sheriff Brodie, as Sister Berdine hinted? He had been kind to her, but kindness did not equate love.

Stars still dotted the night sky, but soon it would be morning. An owl hooted from the woods and a cow bawled in the pasture. Then a different sound came to her ears. Not a natural one, but that of metal on rock. She remembered Sister Berdine speaking of seeing the Shaker man with a shovel. What could the man be digging in the dark before dawn?

Asher whined and leaned against her leg. His labored panting was evidence of his pain.

“We’d best get started, Asher. Pray Sister Berdine’s Payton is right about this Brother Willis.”

After Asher walked a little ways, he lay down as though he could go no farther. Carlyn tore a piece off the bottom of the nightgown under her dress. More reason for confession. She
would have to make a list, although after tonight she doubted Sister Edna would even want to open her ears to hear Carlyn’s wrongs. It could not be helped. She would not desert Asher.

She slipped the cloth strip under the dog’s belly and used it like a sling to help him keep walking, but it was still slow. The rising bell was ringing when at last they reached the barn.

She stroked Asher’s head and waited for Brother Willis to come down the path from the West Family House. When he did, the brother stopped as though unsure of whether to continue toward the barn if it meant coming near her. Then he saw Asher, and his compassion overpowered his worry about Shaker propriety.

He carried Asher inside to an empty stall and sent Carlyn after a bucket of water from the cistern beside the barn. When she brought it back, he looked her up and down in the dim light of the barn. His face, lined with age, had the solemn look of a devout Shaker.

“You do not wear the proper cap over your hair or the neckerchief, but you are nevertheless a novitiate sister, are you not?”

“Yea.”

“And this is your dog?”

“He came here with me, but Eldress Lilith said he could not stay. I took him to town and gave him to the sheriff there. I suppose he tracked me down here. Brother Payton said someone has shot him.”

“Brother Payton?”

“He said to tell you he is sorry.”

“So he left with that sister.” The brother sighed and slowly shook his head. “Such are the temptations of the world. Lust takes many a man down wrong paths.”

Carlyn thought it best to stay silent.

“I have seen it happen many times, but I never thought to see it happen to Brother Payton. He has long been a faithful Believer.” Brother Willis shook his head again, then seemed to remember the problem of Carlyn standing before him. “You must return to the Gathering Family House.”

“But Asher—”

He held up his hand. “I will tend to your dog. Asher, you say?”

“Yea,” Carlyn answered weakly. “Can’t I stay while you treat him?”

“Nay, but worry not. I will fix his leg, but you must return to your proper place among us.”

“Let me tell him goodbye.”

“Very well. I will see to the horses.” He moved past Carlyn out of the stall. “Do not tarry long. You will have been missed by now.”

Carlyn knelt beside Asher and stroked her hand all the way down his back. She leaned close to his ear and promised to return whether it was allowed or not. He whimpered and licked her face. When Carlyn went out of the stall, the old brother was watching her with a frown.

“It is better to shower such love on your sisters and brethren, young sister, than on a dumb animal.”

Carlyn wanted to tell him Asher was far from a dumb animal, but she bit back the words. He was helping her. For that she could be grateful and silent. So she only said, “Yea. Thank you, Brother Willis.”

The walk back through the village to the Gathering Family House felt even longer than the walk in the night to the barn, for she knew who waited for her there. Sister Edna.

28

Still no Asher on Mrs. Snowden’s back porch when Mitchell went down for breakfast the next day. He wasn’t surprised the dog wasn’t there, but he did look. His mother used to tell him that if a person prayed for rain, they ought to go outside expecting to get wet. But she also said sometimes it took the clouds awhile to gather.

Mitchell wanted to search for the dog. He wanted to have him in hand before he went back to the Shaker village and saw Carlyn again. But he didn’t ride out to Carlyn’s house. First, he had to hunt down Curt Whitlow. Men took precedence over dogs. Even a man like Curt Whitlow.

That Mrs. Whitlow had asked him to look for Curt meant something unusual was going on. Town gossip had it she didn’t much care whether Curt ever came home, but gossip was ofttimes wrong. Either way, it was Mitchell’s job to keep the people in his county safe. That included Curt Whitlow. What he thought of the man made no difference.

Whitlow wasn’t at any of his usual haunts. Janie at the
hotel dining room said she hadn’t seen him for a couple of days.

“I’ve been wondering where he’s got to.” She looked up from wiping off a table. “He’s generally here about every other day. Says that wife of his hasn’t ever learned how he likes his eggs.” She straightened up and put her hands on her hips. “I figure she’d just as soon he found his eggs somewhere besides her kitchen. So I guess it’s no surprise he’s here a lot. A man don’t find what he needs at home, he goes looking for it.”

“He didn’t happen to tell you anywhere he might go looking,” Mitchell said.

“Money can make for plenty of places to look.” She started cleaning the table again. “But he never had any reason to share none of those places with the likes of me. I’m lucky to get a nickel tip if the cook happens to get his eggs scrambled just so.”

Billy Hogan was no help either. He looked up from cutting Harold Thompson’s hair and shook his head. “Haven’t seen Curt for a spell. Not since before he got dog bit. Figured he was laying low, taking it easy. They say he can’t even use that arm.”

Harold raised his head to add his two bits. “Doc said he had to put so many stitches in it that he lost count and Curt bellowed with every last one.” Harold’s shoulders shook with a silent laugh.

“Best sit still if you don’t want me to take a chunk out of your ear, Harold.” Billy pushed Harold’s head down to trim the hair on the man’s neck. He peered over at Mitchell. “You tracking down Curt for any special reason, Mitch?”

“Just need a little information he might have,” Mitchell said.

“Don’t have nothing to do with that fire out at the Shaker town, does it?” Billy looked back down at Harold’s head and worked his comb and scissors.

“What makes you think that?” Mitchell had found that sometimes the best way to avoid answering a question was to ask one of his own.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Billy kept clipping Harold’s hair. “Seems like I heard Curt was fussing about them people out there, but then Curt fusses about everybody. So it probably didn’t mean nothing. Can’t imagine him setting property on fire. He’d rather figure out a way to buy it for little of nothing and sell it for plenty more.”

“I doubt if the Shakers would sell any property like that,” Mitchell said. “They’re pretty shrewd with their business dealings.”

“Everybody can make a bad deal now and again. And those Shakers do like buying up land or taking it over when they get somebody to join up with them. I hear they’re trying to sell that Widow Kearney’s house now. That they paid off her debt on it.” Billy brushed off Harold’s neck with a shaving brush. “Don’t imagine Curt was too happy about that. He thought he had that house in his pocket.”

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